


Boris

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs is Will's Adoptive Sister, Abigail Hobbs is a Prostitute, Abigail is 23, Abused Will, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Canon Autistic Character, Consensual Underage Sex, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, More tags later, but thought I might add it as a tag anway, not underage enough to need the archive warning, will is 17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "My name is Will Graham, and I would like to report my sister, Abigail Hobbs, as missing."Will Graham has spent his life bouncing from foster home to foster home, until he is taken in by one of his foster sisters, Abigail Hobbs. Abigail does what she has to to make money for the both of them, and when she is gone for longer than usual, Will sets out to search for her. With the police not wanting to help him, he turns to a mystery man that he meets named Hannibal Lecter, who offers to pay to find his sister, along with letting Will live with him until she is found.





	

Will wiped the palms of his hands on his dingy jeans, trying to wipe the nervousness out of them. This is the third time he had been to the police station in the past two days, and every time he seemed to talk himself out of going.  _ You know she can handle herself, _ he says,  _ She just probably is hanging out at one of the other girl’s houses. _ A small voice always nagged him at the back of his brain saying ‘you know that you’re wrong.’ A man in a suit passed by Will, opening the heavy glass doors, and stood there for a moment with it open.

 

“Are you going to be coming inside?” The man was inquisitive, and had an accent that Will couldn’t quite place. Will looked up at him, ready to say no but then realizing that this was a sign. The man wasn’t going to keep the door open all day, seeing as the cool air from inside was leaking out and mixing with the almost miserably hot weather outside. 

 

“Thank you,” Will said, looking at the ground as he quickly walked inside. He didn’t see the man close the door, but heard the slow  _ woosh _ as the door closed behind them. The police station was lit with florescent lights that Will immediately disliked. Paired with the grey carpet and off-white cinderblock walls, it felt as if he was trapped in some strange school again.

 

The line leading up to the counter had about five people ahead of him, so Will sat down in one of the chairs near the door, with his back pressed against the wall. He didn’t bring anything to entertain himself with, since he suspected that it would only take a few minutes. He probably should have considered the amount of car accidents with summer travel, DUIs, and missing pets that happened during the summer. Will fiddled with the ratty ends of his cardigan while waiting for the line to deplete some. Even if it was hot outside, he enjoyed wearing the brown cardigan because it was a soft material that felt nice. Abigail had tried to convince him to wear something else, but when she saw how much he loved it, she didn’t bother him again about it. She just made sure to keep him from overheating.

 

After about thirty minutes, there was only one person left in line. Will got up from his seat and stood behind her.

 

“You have to do everything to find my shmookins,” The lady wailed. She was probably in her 40’s, and had a bob cut that screamed ‘I want to see your manager’. 

 

“Shmookins?” The officer behind the desk asked. The name tag on her uniform read ‘Dernavich.’ Will pitied this lady, even if he wasn’t very fond of police officers. The soccer mom was almost hysterical.

“Were you not listening?” She sounded like she was going to bite Officer Dernavich’s head off, “My miniature pinscher Button. It’s hot outside, and when I let her out to use the bathroom, my stupid lawn boy left the gate open. She ran out, and she could have gotten hurt or worse!”

 

“Okay, ma’am,” Officer Dernavich sighed, typing some information into her computer, “We’ll put out a notice to look out for Button. For now, I would suggest you go home and try not to panic. Put out one of her favorite toys, and maybe something that smells like you, and she’ll most likely be home in a few days to a week.” The lady huffed, tipped up her nose, and walked out of the station.

 

Will cautiously stepped up to the counter, trying to look natural and not so jumpy. All of his experience with police officers had not been pleasant. He had been in the foster system for so long that all that he knew of police officers were statements that he would give after something bad happened at one of the homes.

 

“Hopefully you have something a bit more important than a missing dog, kiddo,” Officer Dernavich looked up from her computer and gave Will a small smile. He tried to return an uneasy one back, but it probably came acrossed more pained than joking. People often mistakened him to be younger than he was since he wasn’t as tall as his peers. Will was seventeen, but probably looked closer to thirteen or fourteen due to his height and stature. It also didn’t help that his clothes were all a size or two bigger than he was. Abigail had done her best to get him clothes that fit, but too tight clothes were harsh on him and had led to a melt down one day.

 

“My name is Will Graham, and I’d like to report my sister Abigail Hobbs as missing,” Will stared at the counter in between them and tried not to look at the officer.

 

“Okay, that’s definitely more important than a lost dog,” Dernavich opened a new report on her computer, “I’m sorry if these seems a bit uncomfortable or insensitive, but I’m going to need to ask a few questions to know what to expect.” Will nodded, to signify that he would answer all that he could.

 

Will answered the basic questions like what is her height, weight, hair color, eye color, and full name. Some of them got a bit more tricky when it asked where Abigail was born, because Will never really learned about her life before the Hobb’s house. The officer gave him a sympathetic look when he told her his address. They had lived in the sector eight housing on the bad side of town. 

 

“Does she have any distinguishable markings, like a scar, birthmark, or a tattoo?” Dernavich asked him. Abigail had a lot of scars, as he did too, but he could think of one that would be most noticeable for when they found her. Will gestured to his neck, and traced a line across the right side.

 

“She has a scar on her neck, it’s pretty noticeable, unless she covered it up with something like a scarf, or makeup.” Officer Dernavich nodded, noting that in the report.

 

“Last question. When was she last seen, where was she last seen, and what was she wearing?”

 

Will swallowed. He knew that they would ask this, but he didn’t think he was prepared for it. Dernavich seemed understanding enough, having accepted where they lived without much of a word. She probably had an idea, but he just needed to confirm it.

 

“Last time I saw Abigail was two nights ago. She had left the house in a black skirt, white tank top, and black heels. It was Saturday, so she should have been at Bohemies.” Bohemies was a seedy strip club that offered side services to high paying customers in the heart of the business district. You didn’t go to Bohemies if you were wanting a respectable time. Will didn’t think that what Abigail did was dirty or wrong, it’s just that he wished that she was treated better. If anyone deserved to be happy and safe, it was her.

 

“Bohemies?” Will nodded. Officer Dernavich gave him a sad look, “Will, you do realize that she’s probably just off somewhere, right? We can put an apb out for her, but if she was...working..then she will come home in a few days.” At that moment, Will lost a lot of the sympathy that he had for the officer. It was extremely unprofessional to just say that somebody would ‘just come home.’

 

Will stared at the ground, and was startled as people walked out of the office area of the station. The man from earlier was leading a conversation with another man, who seemed to be the chief of police, Jack Crawford.

 

The man locked eyes with Will’s, and Will quickly looked away and back to the front desk. “Please,” He said, “You have to help. She’s usually not gone this long.” He knew that there was a possibility that they would see that this wasn’t as important, as say, a missing kid but it was his sister.

 

“Kid,” Officer Dernavich said, “We’re running a bit thin around here.” The man stopped beside Will.

 

“Ma’am,” He piped up, “You told a lady that you would help her find her dog, but you can’t help him find his sister?” Officer Dernavich stammered, but couldn’t say anything.

 

Will turned to the man that was next to him. “Who are you?” He asked, fiddling with his sleeves.

 

“My name is Hannibal Lecter, and I’m going to help you find your sister.”

**Author's Note:**

> So you might be like "Didn't you already write this story?" and the answer is yes, yes I did. But this is a re-write because I wanted it to be better, and have more set up for a plot.


End file.
